The Mists: An Innovation of Faith and Science

“The tragic world we live in held me for a while.
All tragedies must eventually end. And I smile.”

Drenched in sorrow she poured the gasoline
Over her church clothes. A lit cigarette burned
Her world to only ashes. Her friends begged
For answers but they know the dead never tell.

What came of her after that departure? Forget
Everything you know and let me create the set.

A beautiful collection of memories, the cultivation
Of the lives we live. Beings made of the Universe
Experience vastly different memories. To collect
Data a dimension exists beyond space and time.
When this voyager found her material body inefficient
Every memory transferred over. Her consciousness
Awoke in an unknown yet comforting place. On a boat
Floating over calm waters at dawn she finally sleeps.

When she awakes there’s herself she must face
Until her metaphysical wounds heal. It’s no race
Because life’s never easy and has no set pace.

The idea that the Universe is God and organisms exist as his senses.

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